


Other Such Inferior Fabrics

by anathemagerminabunt



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Bondage, Dominance, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathemagerminabunt/pseuds/anathemagerminabunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It had indeed been hours since I had gently laid him down and bound his arms with care, hours spent oscillating between lavishing Bertram with all the physical pleasures I knew and denying him the very same. Hours of applying my mouth and hands to every inch of his feverish skin.</i>
</p>
<p>  <i>He was a sight to behold.</i></p>
<p>Jeeves finds a suitable alternative for one of Bertie's ties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Such Inferior Fabrics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticsra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/gifts).



It was not so much the garish shade of chartreuse that immediately turned me against Mr. Wooster's most recent acquisition as it was the combination of said shade with such a vulgar material. It is unsuitable for a gentleman of his stature to associate with cotton neckwear and other such inferior fabrics. I take great pride in the unimpeachable quality of our wardrobe and strive to ensure that Mr. Wooster is at all times impeccably attired, a fact which certainly meant that such an erroneous sartorial addition could not be allowed to pass without comment.

And so that is how it came to pass that I should have my dear, obliging Bertram spread out across the master bed with nothing but that abominable chartreuse tie fastening his wrists to the headboard.

“J-Jeeves,” he gasped once again, struggling against his bonds in an effort to catch my eye. “Oh, Jeeves, please. Please, it's been _hours_. How long shall you insist on this blasted torture?”

I refrained from answering, affecting indifference as I methodically rolled my sleeves upward to expose my bare forearms while remaining completely clothed otherwise. In truth, I was boiling beneath the surface, as eager and needful as the young master himself. It had indeed been hours since I had gently laid him down and bound his arms with care, hours spent oscillating between lavishing Bertram with all the physical pleasures I knew and denying him the very same. Hours of applying my mouth and hands to every inch of his feverish skin.

He was a sight to behold.

“Oh Lord, oh good Lord,” Bertram chanted, his voice breathless and quick. “Please, Jeeves.”

Naked, of course, with a proud cockstand jutting upward, moisture steadily leaking from the near-purple tip. It made my mouth water to look at it, made me desperate to bring him to my lips and take him in as far as I could, to greedily lick and suck and take until I was filled with the taste of Bertram. I gave in to my desires, relishing in the resulting moans and shudders, though only a Herculean effort on my part stopped me from succumbing completely.

He writhed, squirming against the linens, his arms stretched taut above him as though he were on display; which, of course, he was. With a wanton, broken moan, Bertram arched off of the bed and cried, “No more, Jeeves, no more! I can't-- oh, please, _please_ let me come off, I'll do anything--”

I perched above Bertram, resting carefully on his thighs so that only my hand touched him where he wanted most to be touched. I pulled and tugged at his aching member, using the experience of our years together to bring him to the edge of ecstasy and leave him there, over and over again.

“Need-- Jeeves--” he groaned, twisting and senselessly shaking his head back and forth. A choked sound squeezed from him, followed by pleading such as only the truly desperate can manage. “Please, oh let me, please, I'll do anything, anything, Jeeves, please, Jeeves, oh--”

I licked my lips and leaned forward to quietly murmur, “Soon, very soon. You've been so good for me, just like you always are. It will be soon.” I quirked my lips. “But I thought perhaps we might break in your new walking stick first. You do look so lovely with your... cheeks flushed.”

“Oh, oh, ohohoh _oh!_ ” Bertram keened, bucking upward hard enough to nearly unseat me, nonsense pleas and desires falling from his lips.

Certainly, Mr. Wooster would soon learn a valuable lesson in the appropriate use of cotton chartreuse neckties.

I smiled and left to fetch the stick.


End file.
